Amanda Waller looked at the team before her with satisfaction—a special ops squad coerced by bombs. Of course, she didn't only rely on pressure. Leadership was an art, after all. While bombs could force them to obey, occasional incentives could be even more motivating.
For instance, allowing Deadshot to occasionally visit his daughter, giving Killer Croc extra at, or providing El Diablo with Spanish music CDs to rember his deceased family. Everyone has a weakness, sothing to exploit.
Relatively speaking, Harley was the hardest to deal with. In the past, the Joker had been her weak spot, but things were different now.
She had lost her fear of death and had no clear interests. If there was sothing she liked, it was probably madness. Lately, she'd been acting strange, often insisting others call her Dr. Quinzel and having guards pretend to be her patients.
Yet, seeing her looking distracted now gave Amanda so reassurance.
Just as she was about to send the squad out, alarms blared throughout the base. The lights in the conference room shifted to a flashing red.
"The base is under attack." Rick Flag approached Amanda, signaling her to head to the control room while he raised his M4, thumbing off the safety.
Amanda gave Rick a nod, directing him to take the squad to investigate, then hurried back to the command center.
When Amanda reached the control room, she was stunned by the sight on the screens. The military camp outside A.R.G.U.S. headquarters was under attack—a massacre, to be precise.
A figure clad in black and yellow armor, wielding two tal staves, was tearing through the soldiers with ease.
She instantly recognized that this wasn't the Deathstroke of their world but the one who had visited Detroit before.
Back then, the A.R.G.U.S. leadership had been captured by rciless and locked away in so cell. A day later, they were rescued, and Amanda had recovered rciless's corpse.
rciless had a massive, fatal wound through his chest, and his supposedly invincible divine armor hadn't saved him. The sight of this Deathstroke slicing through tanks with a greatsword made her imdiately think of that scene.
"Have we alerted the Justice League? We're facing an interdinsional invasion," Amanda asked the staff at the console, as if she had never targeted the Justice League herself.
"They're currently being questioned by the Security Council. No response yet." The staff mber grimaced at Amanda; it was a classic case of backfiring plans.
"How much ti do we have left?" Amanda gripped the railing tightly, her face tense.
"At the rate our forces are falling, we can hold out for maybe three minutes," another staff mber replied.
The heavyset woman pressed a hand to her forehead. She couldn't recall having ever provoked this interdinsional Deathstroke. Why would he attack A.R.G.U.S.? This was a governnt facility, after all!
But Su Ming couldn't care less about governnt institutions. Since returning and realizing Manhattan hadn't thrown him out again, he was free to do as he pleased.
The U.S. troops before him, though well-equipped and trained, were far from the soldiers he had faced in the German chs.
Moreover, the reputation of Deathstroke often worked in his favor. Su Ming had only knocked out or injured so of them, and many fled after seeing him unscathed.
He wasn't killing anyone—for now—but it was only a matter of ti before his patience ran out. If they didn't run now, when would they?
It didn't take three minutes; Su Ming had already breached the building, with the two infantry divisions outside in complete disarray, effectively rendered useless.
He wasn't here to kill but to negotiate. Killing would be counterproductive; he just needed to demonstrate his strength.
Though the Deathstroke of this world wouldn't fear regular soldiers, managing to neutralize an entire military force through non-lethal ans was no small feat.
"All right, let's see where the little rats of A.R.G.U.S. are hiding."
Su Ming strode through the building, with the red lenses in his helt feeding him all sorts of analysis. Automated turrets and bomb traps posed no obstacle as he cut through them with ease.
Soon, he found himself before a massive steel door, shaped like a giant bolt.
After taking down the last group of stubborn agents, Su Ming used his Midnight Sword to cut through the door. It reminded him of the vault doors in the Fallout series—proof that rciless had left a lasting impression on them.
But even this door couldn't withstand a weapon made of X-tal.
With little effort, he descended into the underground facility.
The entire way had been smooth—no one dared to stop him—until he encountered the Suicide Squad in a hallway.
"Slade! Stop right there!" Rick Flag raised a hand, signaling Su Ming to keep calm.
Deathstroke had once joined the Suicide Squad for his own purposes, so they were familiar with each other. Back then, Amanda had been na?ve enough to think she could control a world-class tactician with bombs implanted in his head.
Especially one with a healing factor.
In the end, she paid dearly for underestimating him. Deathstroke completed his mission, escaped unscathed, and left the Suicide Squad in chaos.
Rick knew that if Deathstroke was here, he already had a plan, one that could let him face any opponent. Even Superman would be at a disadvantage.
The Suicide Squad stood no chance against Deathstroke. If Enchantress were still with them, they might be able to delay him with magic, but she had recently left to join the Dark Justice League.
Enchantress was a free spirit, preferring to be a hero rather than a governnt enforcer.
Rick, on the other hand, was a patriot, a soldier who would always follow orders.
When Etrigan had threatened Amanda, demanding she release Enchantress or he'd conjure a different demon in her underwear every day of the year, Amanda had relented, handing Enchantress over to the Dark Justice League.
She wasn't worried about the underwear issue but didn't want to provoke a dozen magicians, including unpredictable figures like Constantine and Swamp Thing.
"You still think I'm the Deathstroke of this world? Your intel needs so work. Poor review," Su Ming scoffed internally.
Even if he hadn't known that Enchantress was gone, he'd still steamroll past these people, even if they'd been replaced by the Dark Justice League.
Magic? The Cloak of Levitation floated behind him. His magical resistance was through the roof now—high magic resistance, high strength, he was the new Sorcerer Supre.
Su Ming wasn't going to stop just because so soldier wanted to chat. Who did he think he was?
Su Ming gestured with his finger, beckoning them forward. His voice, like a demon's, echoed through the narrow hallway: "Co on, I'm in a hurry. All of you, co at ."
Rick's face froze, while so mbers of the Suicide Squad could no longer hold back.
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